“When?” asked I.
“When we were in the ould counthry,” says he. “When you tuck the purse from me for Mary Sheean, and promised to spake the last words I spoke to her.”
When I heard him say that, all my ould fears came over me fifty times stronger than ever, for hadn’t I broken my promise to O’Rourke? And I could see now, from the family likeness, this was his spirit; and instead of telling her all he said, only given half his message to poor Mary!
“Oh, be me sowl, good ghost!” says I.
“If I’m a ghost, I’m—”
He made a long pause, so I spoke.
“Never mind what,” says I. “I don’t want to axe any post-mortem questions—”
“Blest!” says he.
“That’s a great relief entirely,” says I. “But if you are blessed, I’m no fit company for you; so never mind your manners—don’t stay to bid me good-by, but go at onct!”
“You don’t want me to stay?” says he.